CHILDREN'S BOOKS

By Karen Ray;

Published: October 31, 1993

FROM the start, readers are on notice that "The Giver" is something unusual: "It was almost December, and Jonas was beginning to be frightened. No. Wrong word, Jonas thought."

In prose that is appropriately flat yet expressive, the narrator recalls a time when Jonas was really worried -- in an upcoming ceremony, he and all the other 12-year-olds in his highly structured community would receive their life assignments. Jonas ponders the correct use of language.

"Apprehensive, Jonas decided. That's what I am." But readers will be engaged.

Ms. Lowry has been embraced by a generation of American children for her humorous series about Anastasia Krupnik, but it is her haunting and unpredictable serious novels -- among them her first, "A Summer to Die" (1977); "Number the Stars," which won the 1990 Newbery Medal; and now "The Giver" -- that help make her work so rewarding.

Even children who've never heard the word "allegory" could be swept up in the story of young Jonas, who, while boyish enough to be likable, is a model member of his regimented community. In addition to speaking precisely, he apologizes readily for minor infractions, and reveals his feelings at family dinner every night and his dreams every morning. When those dreams show the first evidence of "Stirrings," he is given a daily pill to control matters. Jonas's friend Asher has been taking the pills for some time, and although Jonas has been curious, "it was the sort of thing one didn't ask a friend about because it might have fallen into that uncomfortable category of 'being different.' Asher took a pill each morning; Jonas did not. Always better, less rude, to talk about things that were the same."

Although sameness is presented positively at first, there are clues that suggest malevolence. A hungry youngster who inadvertently asks for a "smack" instead of a "snack" is whacked across the knuckles with the "discipline wand."

When Jonas is apparently skipped over at the life-assignment ceremony, it's obvious that something big is up. "Jonas has not been assigned," the Chief Elder explains after a tense wait, "Jonas has been selected . . . to be our next receiver of memory."

The crowd buzzes. Jonas, however, is puzzled. While it's an exalted position, no one knows what the receiver of memory does. Suddenly given a schedule with no time for play, and forbidden to discuss his training, Jonas is also exempted from rules pertaining to rudeness and dream-telling. Most appalling, however, is the final statement on his training sheet: "You may lie."

Meeting the old man known as the Giver, Jonas is startled to see walls lined with books. He thought books contained only rules. Gradually, in what is part mysterious communication with the Giver and part revelation, Jonas learns -- in order to become his community's conscience -- all the things it has done away with. Colors, a new experience, are especially fascinating to him.

" 'Why can't everyone see them? Why did colors disappear?'

"The Giver shrugged. 'Our people made that choice, the choice to go to Sameness. . . . We gained control of many things. But we had to let go of others.' "

Set apart by his station, Jonas faces a lonely and desperate struggle with evil disguised as sameness, and ultimately, armed with knowledge of emotion as well as sensation, he makes a challenging choice. Despite occasional logical lapses, "The Giver," a powerful and provocative novel, is sure to keep older children reading. And thinking.

Karen Ray's first novel for young adults, "To Cross a Line," will be published next spring.